


About Time

by pumpkinpeyes



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie/Richie is the main pairing the others are just mentioned, F/M, Love Confessions, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Soft Richie Tozier, Tumblr Prompt, bath time!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpeyes/pseuds/pumpkinpeyes
Summary: It’s been exactly six months, seven days, and roughly twelve hours since Eddie’s divorce was finalized. And yes, he’s still excited enough to count. He has been living with Richie for just over two months longer than that and has realized, since joining his friends to defeat a clown and remembering that life doesn’t suck, that he was in love with Richie Tozier. This is both an amazing revelation on Eddie’s part and something he’s not been afraid to say. He decided, after nearly being skewered by a giant claw, that life is too short and likely to end savagely and painfully to stay under the thumb of anyone. In this case he means both Myra and himself.Richie, surprisingly, hasn't returned the sentiment.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 1
Kudos: 93





	About Time

It’s been exactly six months, seven days, and roughly twelve hours since Eddie’s divorce was finalized. And yes, he’s still excited enough to count. He has been living with Richie for just over two months longer than that and has realized, since joining his friends to defeat a clown and remembering that life doesn’t suck, that he was in love with Richie Tozier. This is both an amazing revelation on Eddie’s part and something he’s not been afraid to say. He decided, after nearly being skewered by a giant claw, that life is too short and likely to end savagely and painfully to stay under the thumb of anyone. In this case he means both Myra and himself. 

To be fair to her, Myra wasn’t a carbon copy of his mother. More like a police-sketch artist’s version of his mother told by a positive drunk girl in a bar bathroom. She had still been over-bearing, far too concerned with his various medications, and wanted updates on his bowel movements but that was like a vacation compared to his mother. He’s definitely thankful she’s dead, and yes, he can say that because he lived it. 

Problem is: no matter how many times he’s said those three words to Richie - and meant it wholeheartedly - all it managed to do is make him sputter, choke on his on spit, or on one memorable occasion to let out a rather impressive falsetto-like squeak. Richie has had exactly zero problem saying those words to Bev and Ben over the phone on one of their weekly Saturday talks, or Bill and Audra when they visit, or in his letters to Mike, and even shouting it over Facetime to Stan and Patty. What Eddie can’t puzzle out is why Richie hasn’t said it back. Everyone knows.

It’s in the little things. Richie wakes up before Eddie does every morning to start the coffee on the stove the way he likes. When Eddie comes home from the grocery store and Richie takes over putting things away just how Eddie likes and starts dinner without prompting. Or how he keeps his house far more clean than what Eddie first witnessed it to be. Even more possibly: that lost-puppy look that he gives Eddie when he thinks he isn’t looking. He’s felt the hungry way Richie looks at him when he comes out of their shared bathroom shirtless with a towel around his hips. 

He just can’t figure out the ‘why’.

It all comes to a head on a Saturday. He’s taking a bath, secure in the knowledge that Richie’s scrubbed it clean specifically for this, and is delighting in his secret guilty pleasure: a lovely Lush bath bomb. He can hear Richie, faintly, through the vent in the bathroom. His conversation with Ben and Bev has been pretty mild. Mostly comprised of awful jokes and surprisingly thoughtful questions about Bev’s upcoming fashion show, a recipe for her lemon bars that he knows Eddie loves, and how their adoption process is going. 

The Blazin’ Bad Zula’s cinnamon sent and glittering gold dust is really making him feel pampered. He’s happy that Richie introduced him to the world of fancy baths. Eddie’s past the point of being weird about body glitter and he knows that Richie likes it anyway. 

He zones back in on Richie’s voice in time to hear, “You don’t think I know that?”

Silence, then, almost sad, “I know he does. He says it all the time.”

Eddie makes a mental note to thank Bev for bringing this up. The whole group is getting impatient with Richie’s hang-up. Maybe impatient isn’t the best word because no-one is angry, really. More like everyone just wants Richie to be happy and none of them understand what he’s hung up on. Eddie suddenly realizes that he’s been his own brand overbearing. In a way. Sure, he wants Richie, but not at the cost of forcing him into doing or saying something he isn’t ready to. 

Richie’s voice travels through the vent again, “Look, Bev, I just don’t want-”

“Richie, I can hear you!” Eddie yells, effectively cutting Richie off. 

There’s a rather loud, “Shit! God, Bev, look: I need to go, ok? We’ll talk later, ok? Yeah, love you, too. Yes, tell Ben. No, I’m fine. Jesus! Yes, ok, bye.”

He can hear Richie’s sigh and the sound of his phone being set down with more force than is strictly necessary. Eddie feels for him, he really does, and decides that maybe he should cut his bath short. Or maybe just get out for a second to apologize. He’s been so caught up in the high of his divorce and his overflowing love for Richie that he hasn’t made time to consider that Richie may have his own things to work through. Eddie knows that his scrape with death really messed with the taller man. Richie’s attention to detail in all things concerning Eddie could just as likely be that anxiety coming out in thoughtful gestures and nervous tics.

Eddie sighs and lifts himself out of the frankly large tub and grabs one of Richie’s comically huge towels to wrap around his waist. He’s a little chilly, breaking out in goosebumps, but the towel is fluffy and warm after hanging over the heating vent. He takes a few deep breaths to steal himself and leaves the bathroom. The door makes a tell-tale squeak when opened so he doesn’t really have the element of surprise.

Instead, he walks down the hall with purposeful steps and calls out, “Richie?”

He rounds the corner just as Richie’s head snaps up at the sound of Eddie’s voice. Eddie can see the fear in Richie’s eyes, seemingly magnified by his glasses, and it breaks his heart. That fear morphs into a couple things that pass his face almost flash too fast for Eddie to see. Defeat, disbelief, and attraction before settling on a forced, bright smile.

“My Eddie Spaghetti, the sparkly man. Is that my towel?”

Eddie gives him a fond smile, “They’re all your towels.”

“Yep, that checks out.” Richie nods, trying in vain to avoid eyeing Eddie up.

“Rich, look, I’m sorry.” Eddie apologizes, taking a step closer.

Richie laughs uncomfortably, “For looking better in a towel than I ever will in a suit?”

“Thank you, but, for the record: you look amazing in a suit.” Eddie takes a breath and lets it out slowly, “I’m sorry that I’ve been pushing you. I’ve been so caught up in being excited about my divorce and _you_ that I’ve not thought of what you want. I love you but I don’t like seeing you uncomfortable.”

It’s dead silent for a moment before Richie blurts, “Is there a reason we can’t have this conversation with you fully-clothed?”

“Yes, I’m not sorry enough to drain the tub,” Eddie says fast, embarrassed. “I’m worried about you, Richie. I don’t want to be a problem. I want to know if me being here is bad for you.”

Richie actually growls in frustration and runs a hand through his hair, “No! God, you aren’t bad for me, I want you here, trust me. I can’t imagine living here without you or living my life without waking up every morning to you in my house.”

“So, what’s the problem? What can I do?”

“Nothing!” Richie yells and then composes himself. “The problem is me. I’m just...afraid. Look, I’ve loved you since we were kids. I lived for daydreams about this exact situation: living with you in gross domestic bliss. But I worry that you want me because I’m convenient. You’re freshly divorced, for all intents and purposes are a Baby Gay, and I’m a comfortable alternative. But I’m not emotionally available to be your gay test-drive.”

“About time.” This is all Eddie says, which he realizes is less than he should have probably responded with.

Richie just furrows his brows, “What?”

“I have been waiting for months to hear you say that to me.” Eddie says, going for confident to cover the happy, anxious beating of his heart, “I understand your concerns and they’re partially correct.” He takes a breath and tries to ignore the hurt look that crosses Richie’s face and steps close enough to grab Richie’s hands in his own. “But I need you to listen to me, please. Can you do that?”

Richie nods dumbly, staring at their hands, and mumbles a weak, “Yeah.”

“Good. Now, you’re right, I am new to the whole gay thing. It’s nice to be out and to feel like I can be myself. Where you’re wrong, though, is your assumption that I haven’t loved you just as long as you have me.” He ducks his head to catch Richie’s eye and squeezes his hands tightly. “I definitely didn’t understand what it meant at the time and it took a loveless marriage ending in a drawn-out divorce to really put things in perspective but it gave me my ‘aha’ moment. My feelings aren’t sudden and I don’t see them changing after over three decades of loving you.”

Richie transforms in front of him, straightening to his full height to beam down at Eddie with a blazing smile, “You love me.”

“Yes, you absolute idiot, I’ve been saying it for a while now.”

The taller man’s whole demeanor is now full to the brim with happiness and warmth, “Your idiot.”

Eddie laughs, “Definitely my idiot. Hopefully, an idiot who would like to take a bath with me and makeout in our claw-foot tub?”

“I could be persuaded, yes.” Richie snarks, fond.

With a kiss to Richie’s knuckles and a devilish wink, Eddie leads him to the bathroom, “You’re gonna have to get a whole lot more naked for this to work.”

“I love you.” Richie sighs happily, dropping Eddie’s hand to strip on the way down the hall.

Eddie just smirks, “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me @pumpkinpeyes on tumblr to submit your own requests or just say hi!


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